It’s Alright, It’s Alright by hidingfromsomeone
by All You Need Is Love Contest
Summary: One jilted lover, one bar, one bottle of rum. One woman, one ballroom, one bottle of Stoli. One ring. One night. One lemon. Now read it.


**********Disclaimer**: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

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**Song Inspiration:** 'whatever gets you through the night'

**Title:** It's Alright, It's Alright

**Pairing:** James/ Victoria

**POV:** James

**Rating:** MA/ NC-17

**Word Count:** 6,307

**Summary:** One jilted lover, one bar, one bottle of rum. One woman, one ballroom, one bottle of Stoli. One ring. One night. One lemon. Now read it.

**This one-shot is being posted in participation with the All You Need is Love contest hosted by Camoozle, Emerald_Rosalie, Lightstardusting and Miztrezboo. Please see the contest profile for full details.**

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The bar itself was relatively empty although the sounds from the ballroom next door spilled through from the open archway, as did several wobbly patrons. I've always liked an empty bar, there's something soul soothing about being left alone; one man and his alcohol in an place where you can just sit and be.

And I had been able to find some pretty impressive alcohol. There was a bottle of Caribbean rum on the shelf in a blood red glass bottle; string tied around the top with a wax seal and a handwritten label in blue ink on a brown, peeling paper label. _This _was rum. I'd bought the whole bottle and was working through it rather steadily with a short glass.

I swear to God I saw her shoes first. Red soled shoes under smooth gray leather, hugging a pair of dainty feet. My eyes travelled up a pair of smooth, pale legs to the point where they disappeared under her dress.

The dress. It looked like particles of liquid silver had joined together then attached themselves to the surface of her skin. The fabric clung and draped over her body; long, long legs and a small waist, curves at her hips and chest, dainty shoulders and collarbone and a mass of red curls that fell from her head.

My first thought was that her hair couldn't possibly be natural, it must be colored and that there was a very good way for me to test this theory. But the highlights and the way the red caught the light from the candles set out about the room suggested that maybe it was real. She'd pulled it up on one side with an ornate silver clip that glittered with tiny diamonds, matching the ones she wore at her ears and throat. Whether her hair and jewels were real, either way, she was a goddess.

She walked up to the bar and leaned her hip against one of the stools while she waited for one of the bartenders to come around. We were alone, albeit temporarily. I knew I was blatantly staring at her and I kind of felt like a Loony Toons character, my eyes (and pants) bulging at the sight of this woman who was channeling the spirit of Jessica Rabbit.

She sighed, obviously impatient with the lack of service, then a smirk appeared at the corner of her red- painted mouth and she turned slowly, seductively and walked down to my end of the bar and slipped onto the stool next to me.

"Is this seat taken?" she purred.

"Nope," I said after glancing down the length of the empty bar.

"Good," she said with a smile and wrapped her slim fingers around my glass, knocking back the remainder of the rum in one. "Gah," she shuddered at the fiery liquor and shuddered. I laughed at the slip in her polished exterior.

"It's good, right?" I said.

"That's vile," she said, smacking her lips against the taste.

"What's your poison?" I asked.

She considered my question for a moment. "Vodka," she replied decisively.

I nodded. "Barkeeper?" I called out and he appeared after a moment. She scowled at my prompt service as I perused the selection of vodkas lining the mirrored bar. "I'll take the Stoli."

"I assume you would like the bottle, Sir?" he said drily.

"Of course."

"That will be one hundred and eighty five dollars and twenty five cents," he told me. I waved a black Amex at him and duly added the bottle to my bill. It was more than worth it. "Ice, madam?"

"Please," she said and waited for him to pour her the drink. I nodded for him to leave, which he did, silently.

"That was disgusting," she told me. I raised an eyebrow at her. "There was no need to buy the whole bottle."

"Ah," I shrugged. "I'll finish it if you don't. That's good Stoli."

She laughed lightly as I gulped down another glass of rum, then took her glass of vodka in one. "It's not bad," she agreed. "Victoria," she extended her hand to me.

"James," I took her hand, shook it once then turned it over to brush my lips over her knuckles. "Pleased to meet you."

"You're a very charming gentleman, James," she said with another trademarked smirk. Her lips were full and red with what looked like stain rather than the waxiness of traditional lipstick and she sure knew how to work them. In contrast with her incredibly pale skin they stood out like a siren. Her cheekbones and jaw were defined but her nose was the tiniest bit crooked with what looked like a childhood break and her earlobes were perfectly chubby. Her imperfections only caused her to be more perfect.

"Are you married?" I demanded of her, suddenly wary.

"No," she said easily.

"Engaged?"

"No."

"Lesbian?" Victoria laughed.

"No, James. I could ask you the same questions." I took a moment to appreciate the long line of her throat as she threw back another shot of vodka. Her sapphire blue eyes leveled with me and the dark shadow smudged around the corners succeeded in its purpose of making her looking sultry and alluring.

"You could," I agreed. She waited a beat then smiled at me. "Ah, you got me," I told her, grabbing my chest. "I'm a lesbian."

Victoria threw her head back and laughed, causing all her curls to bounce around her shoulders. "I like it," she said.

"You want to know why I'm sitting in a bar by myself, drinking expensive liquor and talking to the prettiest lady in the whole damn state."

"Not really," she said, playing with the edge of her dress. "You've quite obviously been jilted by a girl."

"I have?"

She nodded. "You have."

"I have," I agreed warily.

"Want to share?" she took another hit of the vodka.

"Sure," I said. "Why not. It turns out the girl I've been with for the last three years has spent the last seven months seeing some doctor from Illinois behind my back. He's a redhead," I said, shamelessly eyeballing her now.

"Oh dear," she said, twisting a red curl around her finger. "Go on."

I winced, the pain of rejection still fresh. "Her graduation ball is tonight on the other side of town in the second nicest hotel in the city; she's just finished her undergraduate literature degree. She told me she couldn't get me a ticket, but it turns out she took him instead."

"But you decided to go _sans _a ticket," Victoria prompted, slipping into Holly Golightly's French.

"Yeah," I told her. "I decided to get the tux out," I gestured to my decidedly rumbled suit, the jacket tossed over the stool next to me and my bow tie untied, "And go down and surprise her. I was going to ask her to marry me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, concern filling those baby blues as she took my hand. I noticed that her fingernails were short and unpainted. For some reason that was incredibly sexy.

"Meh, I'm over it," I lied. "I left and got in a cab to come to the _nicest_ hotel in the city to prop up the bar, then go up to my Presidential Suite and pass the fuck out for a couple of hours."

"Did you buy a ring?" Victoria asked. I fished the red velvet box out of my pocket and thrust it out to her. I didn't need to look at it again; I knew what the fucking thing looked like. Platinum band, square face inset with nine diamonds. I was going to throw it into the next drain I came across; there was no way I was doing the walk of shame to return it to the store.

"Wow," Victoria was obviously dazzled by it. "James it's stunning."

"I know," I said dully. "Do you want it?"

"Well, there's a half hearted proposal if I ever heard one," she laughed.

"I'm not proposing, I'm asking you if you want the damn ring," I said to her. "Try it on."

Victoria gaped at me for a moment, then pulled the ring out of the velvet surround and slipped it on to the fourth finger on her right hand.

"It's too big," she said, sounding sad about the fact.

"Yeah, she had fat fingers," I bitched. Victoria laughed again and leaned in to kiss the corner of my mouth.

"Poor dear," she cooed, then slipped the ring onto her middle finger. "Perfect fit."

I took her hand and appraised the way the square set looked against her pale, almost translucent skin. It really was perfect. "Keep it," I decided.

"Oh, James, I really can't," she protested, trying to take it off. I held firm onto her hand. "You'll regret it in the morning; giving it away to a strange girl you met in a bar."

"You're not a strange girl, you're Victoria," I argued. "And I was planning on throwing it away. I'm much happier seeing it on the hand of a beautiful woman rather than at the bottom of a river." I grabbed the box and deftly threw it over the bar into the trash can in the corner. "It's yours, now."

"You're surprisingly dexterous for a barfly. The problem is, I feel like I should give you something back," she said as she refilled both our glasses.

"That's not why I gave it to you."

"I know."

"Then tell me about yourself."

"Dangerous question, James," she said, adding ice to her vodka and swirling to dilute it slightly.

"Hmm, let me guess then," I said, starting to enjoy my evening with her. "Are you a model?"

"No, but I get asked that a lot. These bad boys are real. Feel them." She grabbed my hand and pressed it to her breast. I took rather gratuitous grope as I ascertained that yes, they definitely were real.

"Ah, dancer?" I suggested as I continued to check, just in case I'd missed the implants on first grope. Just for fun I rubbed my thumb knuckle over her nipple to see if it would pucker up for me. It did.

"No, not a dancer," she told me and gave me my hand back. I duly put it in my lap.

"Designer?" I was grasping at straws now I'd been forced to put her breast down. My brain was still processing the fact that she didn't appear to be wearing any underwear.

"No," she laughed. "I'll put you out of your obvious misery. I'm a manager for a couple of Indie bands."

"Oh, cool," I said, immediately interested.

"However I refuse to mix business and pleasure, and tonight is definitely not about business."

"Sounds about right for my luck," I sighed.

"Don't be so down on yourself, James," she said, straightening my collar for me. By leaning over she had given me a great view of her cleavage down that low cut dress. "So one bitch cheats on you. You seem like a nice enough guy, and Lord knows you're attractive, so find a new one."

"I'm done with women," I announced and toasted the fact with another shot of rum. I wished the alcohol was making me drunk but unfortunately it was just numbing the pain. I was still too sober.

"You looking for some back door action?" Victoria teased. "'Cus I reckon I could find a nice boy to do you if you like."

"Hell no," I said quickly. "I plan on much better acquainted with my old Playboy collection. I haven't looked at it since the nineties though. Hey, classic Playboy's get auctioned off for loads, right?"

"Not in the condition yours are likely to be in," she snorted.

"Fair comment," I conceded. "Fine. Me and my Playboys, one man and his hand. I'm twenty eight, Victoria," I said, looking into her eyes. "I don't want to be single forever. I'm ready to settle down, that's why I was going to ask her to marry me. And you know what's the worst thing about all of this?"

"No, what's the worst thing?" she said, leaning her elbow on the bar, all sense of propriety forgotten.

"My mother," I told her. Victoria snorted into her glass. "No, seriously," I insisted.

"If I don't start reproducing soon, she's going to try and hook me up with another one of her 'nice Jewish girls' and I don't think I could stand that."

"My mother gave up on me years ago," Victoria said. "My sisters are doing all the reproducing, as you so finely put it. I think she thinks I'm either a lesbian or a whore."

"How rude," I sympathized.

"James, can I ask you something?" Victoria said, leaning into me so I could smell the tang of her expensive perfume.

"Sure," I said, ready to give this woman anything she wanted as her scent invaded my brain.

"Will you dance with me?"

I willed my cock to calm down. "I'm not the greatest dancer," I admitted.

"I can lead," she said with a twitchy smile. "You just need to put your hands around my waist and let me press my chest up against yours."

"I can do that," I agreed quickly.

"Thought you might say that," she laughed. "Come on."

I took her hand as she hopped down from the stool and was impressed that she could still move after the amount of Stoli she'd drank and the height of those heels. She grasped my hand tightly as we walked through to the ballroom where a swing band were settling to a decidedly more bluesy style now it was getting late.

Victoria lead me to the centre of the floor, right underneath the huge crystal candelabra and stepped up close to me. She put one of my hands on her waist and kept hold of the other, then rested her head on my shoulder as we started to sway to the music. Due to the height of her heels she was almost as tall as me; barefoot I imagined she'd only be a few inches shorter. I remembered an old desire for long, lean women that had been trampled on when I met the short, rounded girl I thought I had wanted to marry.

My head dropped so my cheek rested on her head and I took a deep breath that was just full of the smells of _her. _There was a slightly floral smell coming from her hair which must have been from her shampoo, under which was the distinct hint of tobacco smoke, although it wasn't overwhelming. I immediately had an image of her with a long cigarette holder in the style of Marlene Dietrich or Rita Hayworth, a husky voice asking a gentleman for a light.

Eyes turned to us and I imagined we must have made somewhat of a picture; she was by far the most beautiful woman in the room and I was holding her in my rumpled half a tux and hair that I'd been pulling at all evening.

"You haven't told me your story yet," I murmured into her hair. "How did you come to be here?"

"I'm a hustler, baby," she whispered back. "I turn up at hotels and find the nearest down- and- out to buy me a bottle of Stoli."

"Liar," I laughed. "You never asked for the bottle."

"That's true. I've been caught out. I'm not a hustler." I debated whether or not to press her. It felt unbalanced; her knowing all my troubles and I not knowing any of hers.

"Truthfully?" I tried.

"Hmm. My friend's engagement party is in the next room. I escaped from some old creep trying to paw my ass and fell into your arms."

I immediately moved my hand up from its attempt at creeping down to paw her ass. She noticed and giggled.

"I don't mind you doing it," she whispered.

"I'm a gentleman, remember?" I teased her. "I wouldn't possibly take advantage of a lady."

"What if the lady wants taking advantage of?" Victoria pulled back and fixed me with an even gaze. "I would hate to think of that suite going to waste."

I decided to level with her. "Victoria, I'm fucked up. I don't think I can be a gentleman if we go there. My heart got ripped out earlier and it's still bleeding somewhere on the marble floor in the Astoria lobby."

"I know," she nodded. "My heart is in New York City, buried with the only man I've ever been able to love."

Back on the marble floor of the Astoria lobby, my heart broke for her.

"Come on," I said and she nodded.

"I'll go grab my purse, you should retrieve that alcohol."

Shit. My rum. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you in the lobby in a minute."

I practically ran back to the bar to retrieve my jacket and my drinks, both equally as important. The barkeeper nodded to me and I returned the silent acknowledgment as I pulled my jacket on and cradled my bottles in my arm.

She was waiting as I walked through the lobby; my shoes clicking on the marble and echoing off the high ceilings and eerily quiet space. I took her hand as we waited for the elevator; each of us watching the needle arch to its left as it counted down the floors.

The itching in my stomach told me not to ask her, but the alcohol was speaking for me as we stood in the lushly carpeted elevator and rode up to my floor. "Do you do this," I gestured between us, "Very often?"

Victoria gave me a sassy smirk but her eyes betrayed her. "Whatever gets you through the night," she shrugged and I felt her sadness seeping out of her pores and into mine.

"It's alright, it's alright," I muttered. Trust me to find a girl who could quote Lennon at me just to prove how much I _couldn't _have her. It was suddenly okay though, what we had silently agreed to do. If this was what got her through the night… well, the alcohol had been my drug of choice, maybe this was hers.

I let the door to the suite thump closed behind us and waited for the awkwardness or the jumping on each other to happen, but neither did. Victoria walked into the high, open space and whistled low between her teeth- she was impressed. I didn't care. It was a place to crash and it didn't matter about the money.

Victoria dumped her purse and her long scarf wrap thing on a leather wing chair and turned back to me. "There's one thing I really want to do, okay?" she asked.

"Go ahead," I smiled, enjoying the look of excitement on her face. She kicked off her shoes, revealing blood red toenails and grabbed the hem of her dress, running through to the master bedroom. I followed her, dumping my own shoes and jacket on the way and watched from the doorway as she jumped on the bed. Literally jumped on it, the way we did when we were five. It was the single sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

I unbuttoned my shirt cuffs as I watched her, smiling like an idiot at her giggles and her desperate attempt to save her dress from ripping as she jumped on it. The result was her hitching it higher up her legs which I categorically did not have a problem with. I pulled my shirt out of my pants and unbuttoned it down the front, smirking and hitching an eyebrow at Victoria when her eyes went glassy as she took in the way I look half naked. It was the ego boost I needed, even if she did start bouncing again.

The shirt was thrown across the room as I took a couple of steps forward, then ran and tackled her, rugby style so she ended up pinned underneath me. I could have said something witty but shit, the woman was underneath me and I needed to touch her.

Victoria's lips came up and captured mine and I grabbed both her wrists, bringing her hands over her head as I crushed my mouth to hers; lips, teeth and tongues working with and against each other as she arched her back off the bed to meet my body. She was fucking unbelievable. I pulled back from her passionate kiss and started to tease her, learning new things about this woman in a way I hadn't had chance to do in years.

She went nuts when I kissed her neck, not so much when I licked her ears and seemed eager to get back to proper kissing. She was feisty and liked being held down, whimpering slightly when I let go of her wrists so I grabbed both her hands in one of mine so I could get back to the old business of palming her boobs.

My hips rocked regularly against hers and she gasped and groaned when I took her plump bottom lip between my teeth, biting and pulling slightly. I gathered up her dress until I reached the hem, then sitting back on my heels I drew the entire thing up and off over her head. She was completely naked underneath, and I gaped at the sight of her laid out, pale and perfect before me. She _was_ a natural redhead.

"Fuck," I whispered as I drank in her beauty.

"I hope so," she said in a low, husky voice and started to play with her own breasts, tugging at her nipples and smoothing her fingertips over the soft skin.

I leaned down and savored the feeling of her hot naked skin against my own as I traced around the edge of her nipple with a wet tongue, then sucked it into my mouth.

"Shit, James," she gasped, tangling the fingers of her spare hand into my hair. I smiled as I grazed my teeth over the puckered skin, earning myself another gasp.

It was so incredibly erotic that she knew enough about her own body to play with herself as I touched her; I continued to lick and suck between her neck and collarbone and breasts as she kept one hand on my head and the other on her own breast, helping me push the two together at times so I could bury my face in their softness. She smelled amazing.

My other hand traced down her stomach and I lightly scratched the skin between her navel and hipbone with my nails to tease her while I sought out the center of all pleasure in the known universe.

She wasn't bare- definitely not a model- there was enough hair there to define her as a woman. But her pussy lips were naked meaning I could slide my fingertips along her, gathering up the seeping wetness before pushing my fingers between her folds to open her up to me.

This was intimate, I knew that so I reluctantly left her breast alone and resumed kissing her as my fingers got to know her better. I didn't want to prod around like some inexperienced teenager, but there's always time to get to know how a girl feels before you go sticking your dick in there. She was smooth and slick and perfect; I ran my fingertips up and down from her clit to her opening a few times, trying to gauge what she liked and what felt good. All of it, apparently.

I slipped the two fingers inside her, only just, and my thumb started to work her clit as she pumped her hips up to meet me. I chuckled at her breathless enthusiasm and ran my nose from her ear down her neck to her collarbone, then kissed back up again.

"Don't tease," she gasped as I started a too- light rhythm on her clit.

"More?" I growled in her ear.

"Yes," she demanded and I pushed my fingers inside her as she said the word so it turned into a hiss of pleasure.

She was so wet, so needy and so immediately responsive to my touch. My dick hurt as it strained in my pants but I had plans for this girl and I needed to calm down in order to get there. I pulled my hips back from her bucking thighs so she wouldn't rub against me and got to work on her first orgasm.

Her pussy was clenching down on me from the moment my fingers entered her but as I found her sweet spot she started to cry out and even my self control couldn't help but think of how good it was going to feel if I could be inside her when she did this. I really wanted her to let me but I wasn't counting on it yet.

"One," I whispered as she came down from her orgasm.

I kissed her lips, swollen from her kisses and where she'd bitten down on them, then kissed her neck and repositioned myself between her outspread thighs. Her eyes met mine as I lowered my mouth to kiss her bellybutton, flicking my tongue out in a promise of how good it could feel. I raised an eyebrow, a question- may I?

She nodded and I sighed in relief. I was desperate to taste her. I took each of her legs in turn and kissed the inside of her ankle before placing it over my shoulder, opening her to me even further.

A red flush had appeared after her first orgasm across her chest and neck and it deepened slightly as I looked down at her pussy properly for the first time. Red curls framed her sex and pretty pink lips were already swollen with pleasure and need. The wetness was there, ready for me to lap up and then create more.

I lowered my head again and ran my tongue from her entrance to her clit, keeping my tongue wide and flat so she got the most pleasure from it, then flicked my tongue over her clit.

"Holy fuck," she gasped, her hands going back to maul her breasts again. Holy fuck indeed.

The fingers of one hand spread her lips open for me so I could get to the good parts and the other wriggled its way under her ass cheeks, finding the gap between them to gently tease her there. I ran my tongue around her entrance a few times then with her moans as encouragement, licked just inside her. She tasted sweet and salty and like a woman and I lapped at her, inhaling her scent and thoroughly enjoying the experience.

She exploded. "Two," I told her, kissing her inner thigh.

A strangled sort of sob came from her throat as she realized I was counting off her orgasms and my lips found her clit again, giving it some much needed attention as my middle finger teased the tight ring of her anus and my thumb worked inside her.

I knew this was probably sensory overload for her but that was fine, I could lick her pussy for hours if she didn't want to do anything else. There was no change in tactics required; I sucked her clit between my lips and flicked my tongue over it repeatedly as I fucked her with my thumb and rubbed her ass gently, three points of contact tipping her over for number three.

She came much more violently this time, her back bowing up off the bed as she actually screamed her pleasure. I had never heard a woman _scream_ in pleasure before- moan, groan, gasp, sure. Victoria was going to kill me. "Three."

I was sure her heart was thundering in her chest; she was panting for breath and little beads of sweat were dampening her hairline as I eased off her slowly. She still shuddered as I removed my fingers from her.

"Stay here," I commanded softly.

"Sure, okay," she gasped weakly and I laughed, then adjusted my straining dick as I climbed off the bed.

There was a bar in the corner of the main entertaining room and I grabbed a couple of bottles of water, gulping a mouthful of water then returning to the bed to offer the second one to Victoria. She was laid out diagonally across the bed, one arm across her face and the other flung out over a pillow.

"Here," I said, offering her the drink.

"Thanks," she said and pulled down the cool water. Once again I watched her throat constrict as she swallowed.

I laid down on the bed next to her on my side and trailed my fingertips over her ribs. Victoria put her bottle on the bedside table and rolled back to me for another hot- as- hell kiss, her fingers reaching for my belt buckle.

"You want this?" I checked as she undid the buttons on my dress pants.

"I really, really do," she said, looking dead into my eyes and smirking.

"Okay," I nodded and pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and grabbed the condom and his friend the spare to put them within easy access.

I lifted my hips to help her pull my pants and boxers off, then without any warning her hot mouth engulfed me to the base in one swift move.

"Shit!" I exclaimed as she sucked back up to the top. She kissed the head of my cock and licked around it, humming in pleasure at my taste.

"It's really pretty," she said, running her hand up and down me a few times.

"Thanks," I said on a laugh. "I don't think anyone has called it pretty before."

"It is," she insisted. "He's big and thick and long…" as if to prove her point she took it back into her mouth and started to suck.

Watching my dick disappear into her red- painted mouth as her eyes locked on mine was the single sexiest thing in existence. And she seemed to love it; using her tongue all over the place and her hands on the root of it and cupping my balls.

I growled low in my chest and using the last shred of my self- will, pulled back after a few minutes of blissful torture. She understood why. I reached over and grabbed the foil packet, pulling out the condom and rolling it down over myself as Victoria watched with eager eyes. Once I was suited up she started to crawl up my body, biting my nipples hard until I winced in delicious pleasure- pain and gasped as her hot wetness slid over my length.

"Can I ride you?" she breathed into my ear, her words hot against my neck.

"Fuck, yeah," I agreed. One roll of her hips later and the head of my cock was inside her, and another and she was sinking down over me. No hands required.

I took hold of her hips as she sat up, leaning back to take me in deeper. I grit my teeth and screwed my eyes shut against the sensation of filling her, stretching her completely and the finality of her thighs meeting mine as I bottomed out inside her. Fuck fuck fuck…

"James," she whispered my name and I opened my eyes to the sight of her; red raw lips, swollen breasts from our combined teasing, her flat stomach and the red curls against my blonde ones. She started to rock her hips, grinding her clit up against me and I dug my fingers into the soft flesh of her bottom to help her, bringing my hips up with each of her thrusts.

Victoria threw her head back in pleasure and there, _there_ was the sexiest thing in the world: red curls tumbling down her back and her breasts thrust out in front of her as her rhythm changed to up and down and she wailed, pinching her own nipples as that red flush spread again and I came with her, hard, deep spurts and it didn't matter that it was relatively quick because it was so fucking good.

"Four," she gasped.

I rolled her off me gently and disposed of the condom in the conveniently placed trash can near the bed and took another pull of water. My recovery time was apparently about 45 seconds with this woman because by the time I rolled back to her, I was getting hard again.

"Oh my god," she whispered as she watched my cock start to reach towards her.

I smirked now and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Can I go again?" I asked. She nodded. "Here's to number five," I muttered as I reached across for my handy spare and rolled him on. Victoria was on her back, obviously nearly spent and I decided to go at this the good old fashioned way.

Despite her exhaustion she still spread her legs for me as I settled between them and hitched her ankles onto my shoulders again. She gripped my forearms and gaped at the way my biceps tightened against her thighs, then with one smooth move I folded her in half and directed my cock deep within her.

"Shit!" she choked out. Then as I pumped into her, "Fuck me!"

I laughed once and leaned in to kiss her as I set a furious pace, pounding her hard but she was still breathless from her last orgasm and from the continuous clenching of her muscles around me, I guessed she was still riding it out.

Slowing my pace, I dropped my forehead to hers and made a study of the blue and green of her eyes as I became determined to eek out every last drop of pleasure from this woman's body. She continued to gasp and groan as I hit her sweet spot and I didn't care that we were messy and sweaty and slick with each other, this was fucking at it's fucking best.

The first orgasm allowed me to keep going for longer than usual the second time around and I let Victoria drop her legs down to wrap around my waist to make sure she didn't cramp up. I lowered my weight to my forearms too, pressing myself along her body more securely.

All of my senses were on hyper- alert and everything was consumed with her. Her smell, her taste, the way her skin felt against mine, the feel of our kisses as I started to increase my speed and she cried out around me while I was still pumping into her.

I wanted to come with her again and by now I knew what she needed. I directed her fingers to her clit to play that as I latched my mouth onto her beautiful nipple. Her fingers stroked across me as well as herself and it wasn't until I felt her come the last time that I finally let go and roared my release into her neck. Fuck. That was the manly version of screaming out an orgasm.

"Five," we breathed against each other's lips.

This was satiated. Pure, post orgasmic bliss, lying next to a sweaty, fucking gorgeous woman who you had literally pleasured six ways from Sunday. I disposed of my lucky spare and grabbed the duvet, battling Victoria under it as she made vague protestations about leaving.

"Sleep," I commanded as I felt my body shutting down already.

"Okay," she agreed and I groaned, annoyed as she curled into the other side of the bed.

"Come here," I told her, reaching out my arm and she finally conceded and snuggled into my shoulder. Then I slept.

~*~

I woke up with pain in every part of my body. My spleen hurt. The space under my toenails hurt. The gaps between each of my vertebrae hurt. My poor, broken, bleeding heart on the floor of the Astoria hurt- she was gone.

I pulled on my boxers from the floor by the bed and wandered through the suite, hoping to find her on the couch eating a room service breakfast and watching cartoons, but she wasn't in any of the rooms or the few guest bedrooms I found along the way. It was a sobering thought for my head: she had left without saying goodbye. It wasn't, however, a sobering thought for my stomach which had finally decided to react to the amount of rum I'd poured into it the previous night.

There are two options when it comes to hangovers; throw them up, or push them down with something greasy and disgusting. I decided to throw it up. There was more than a little bit of dejection and rejection running through my veins alongside the alcohol; I wanted to see her again and I didn't know anything apart from her first name. That was a bit humiliating in itself- that I didn't even bother to get her name.

I emptied the contents of my stomach and felt slightly better after that but decided to call down to room service for some painkillers to be sent up to the suite. It was the least they could do after the amount I'd paid for the bed for the night.

I straightened up and walked across to the sink to wash my face and brush my teeth before I had a shower, and there she was. Well, she wasn't _there,_ but enough of her was.

She had scrawled her number on the mirror in a dark red lipstick, a different color to the one she was wearing the night before. The carcass of it was tossed in the sink so I guessed she had found it in the suite somewhere.

Underneath her number she had signed an elaborate _V, _then a note;

_Oh, and James, it was more than just 'alright'._

* * *

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